Book 2: Children of Violence
Cristine her heart thumped. She could hear blood passing through her ears - thump, thump, thump-and looking down saw her red coated chest moving up and down. She even tasted textured meat that was never meant to be chew...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Enjoy the next chapter guys, special thanks to TankGal for making this gif 😘
"You got some on your face." Troy pointed at the area of his cheek to show where Cristine's face was caked with blood and bits from the dead. Taking out a handkerchief from his pocket, he offered it so she could wipe her face.
Cristine sat on the trunk, the slick machete etched into the dirt. After silent deliberation of looking at the outstretched cloth dangling in front of her, she took the extended handkerchief from Troy's hand. Extending her legs, Cristine's boots made a dry and scratchy sound over the dirt.
While Cristine concentrated on cleaning herself, Troy stared her up and down with curiosity. His mind was back on the rage of her venting session. He wanted to ask what was truly on her mind, then realized he'd probably bring back up the event everyone tiptoed around. But as usual, Troy his curiosity outweighed his ability to read the current mood.
"I get why you left," he said, "when you're focused, ready to take on the assholes, until some idiot pulls you from it." The cloth moved from the hands and fingers to the neck and face.
Usually whenever Troy conversed with Cristine, it showed as clear as a scowl, a frown, as faint as a twitch at the edge of her lips, or grind of her teeth. But in this moment, Cristine was fully immersed on the menial task, as if the simple action would bring her back into that same focus.
It wasn't the first time he'd seen Cristine come to herself so quickly. That night he and the guys took her with them and sat with him in the truck came to mind. When she said to him that the world was nothing but pretend and she often played that same game of pretend with her family. It was crazy she could lash out so quick and fierce, but also calm down at the same time given all the stress her body and mind went through.
"You were right," Cristine admitted.
Troy blinked in his spot on the far end of the bark. It had to register Cristine addressed him. Pitch black eyes peered at him from behind the fallen and clumped curls of her hair, and Troy had the feeling she was trying to look right through his mind.
Never breaking eye contact and voice clear, Cristine explained, "when you talked about there being no rules or lines to cross... we need to kill these people."
Troy slowly nodded, it was ironic something bad had to happen for her to fully accept that... Troy was under the impression that Cristine already knew given her experience outside.
"It's not as if I didn't know what you meant. But the way you're justifying it and making excuses for is wrong," Cristine said, frowning.
"We'll agree to disagree on account of those details." Troy visibly shrugged, more curious where she was going with this sudden conversation. It wasn't as if he would go into a moral dilemma. There wasn't room for emotions and in all honesty Troy felt not an ounce of regret over his actions.
